


and you and i, we fell for each other

by milfjuno



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Begging, Clothed Sex, Coming In Pants, Frottage, Grinding, Other, Porn with Feelings, Trans Peter Nureyev, juno steel is hot as hell i dont make the rules, porn with some relationship-related plot, quiet begging, sex without talking cause they're idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24143335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milfjuno/pseuds/milfjuno
Summary: This fic is a callout post for Amythyst for realising they can get me to write whatever the fuck they want by bribing me with art/just making me daydream about it enough. SMH.Anyway. Juno and Peter read poetry, I guess.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 188





	and you and i, we fell for each other

**Author's Note:**

> Potential CWs: the only thing I can think of is... ideally folks, talk way more with your partner before having sex. These two are king and queen of being bad at talking.
> 
> and you and i,  
> we fell for each other  
> like children, we fumble in the dark  
> like teenagers, we talk through every movement  
> like we've known this dance for years, years, years;
> 
> my hands, they're too small  
> to spread over your heart  
> like i want them to.  
> your hands, far too big  
> to cradle my face between them  
> like you meant them to.

This is further than they’ve been before – well. Further than they’ve been since _back then_ , anyway. It started a couple weeks into their nightly talks in a moment of frustration, when Nureyev fisted hands into Juno’s shirt and kissed him, hard and heavy for a moment before breaking away.

He’d tried to apologise, the next night, and Juno had cut him off with a slow kiss and an assurance that this was okay, as long as Nureyev thought it wouldn’t make things too complicated.

Apparently, he didn’t. After that, the majority of their conversations devolved into kissing. Never anything more, never anything for too long. It was something Juno felt… oddly okay about not defining, even if he had a feeling he knew deep down that the both of them were on the same page about where they want their relationship to go, that they’re both only waiting for the right time to move forward.

But this is still further than they’ve been yet in their newly undefined relationship.

They had been kissing like normal, a few short kisses that turned into longer ones, Juno’s hand on the side of Nureyev’s face. And it felt… good. Kissing Nureyev always felt good but tonight there was something about it that Juno craved.

Nureyev had pulled away, preparing to clear his throat and drop his eyes and say, “Well. I think that about wraps up everything I have to say tonight,” like he always did, and Juno had suddenly found the idea of that unbearable.

Juno had pulled Nureyev back in, and now they were here.

They’re sitting side by side on the bed, one of Nureyev’s arms holding him propped up on the bed and the other on Juno’s waist, and Juno’s hand still around the back of Nureyev’s neck from when he guided him back in. There’s a breathlessness to this kiss – an acknowledgement that what they’d had so far wasn’t enough, that despite themselves, they still wanted more.

Juno parts his lips against Nureyev’s, and moans quietly a moment later when Nureyev’s tongue slides between them. He slides his hand from Nureyev’s neck to the side of his jaw, and Nureyev moves.

Slowly, Nureyev shifts his weight, coming to guide Juno gently back onto the mattress. Then he’s over the top of him, carefully keeping his body from touching Juno’s even as Juno brings his other hand up to cup the other side of Nureyev’s face.

The kiss parts with a wet sound, and starts again a millisecond later, Nureyev’s tongue immediately returning back to tracing Juno’s mouth. And shit, Juno can feel heat course through him, knows he’s semi-hard already.

This is nice. Fantastic, actually, brilliant, everything Juno has ever wanted and more. That doesn’t make it the best decision to make, and there’s a crossroads fast approaching. It’s hard to think while being kissed by Peter Nureyev, hard to decide whether they should stop here or go further, further…

Juno knows somewhere that he’s half thinking with his dick, and not his brain, but he doesn’t feel like ever, ever stopping.

Nureyev brushes his hand over the side of Juno’s face, and breaks the kiss. When Juno opens his eyes, he finds Nureyev’s own, dark and half-lidded in a way that makes the heat in Juno’s stomach jump, trained on him.

“Juno,” Nureyev says softly. It’s a question. _Juno, what do we do? Juno, where does this go from here? Juno, what do you want?_

There’s no room in Juno’s head for anything else. “ _Yes_ ,” he whispers back, and raises his hands to Nureyev’s face again. He watches a tremble go through Nureyev’s body before he pulls him down to kiss him again.

The kiss is messy for a moment, before Nureyev’s lips shift to the corner of Juno’s mouth and then down, down his jaw. His other hand slides down Juno’s side to tuck underneath just his shirt as his teeth scrape gently at the point where Juno’s jaw meets his neck.

“Don’t stop,” Juno sighs, tipping his head for Nureyev to kiss at more of his neck, his breath catching in his throat when Nureyev’s hand slips down to palm at Juno’s dick through his jeans.

He makes a tiny whine when Nureyev’s hand leaves again, but then it’s back at the side of his face and Nureyev’s body lowers and they’re touching all over.

Juno moans, his hands immediately roaming over Nureyev’s body, down the back of his shirt and up his sides. Nureyev’s thigh is pressing between his own, and as Nureyev leans up to kiss him again, his leg shifts and rubs against Juno in the best way.

It’s so good to be touched like this again. So good to be touched like this from _him_ , from Nureyev, who Juno’s been fantasising about for a year and a half. The fabric of his jeans is rough, but the friction burns deep into his gut in the best way.

Nureyev makes a gentle sound in the back of his throat. He’s properly grinding against Juno’s thigh now, fucking himself slowly against Juno’s leg as he kisses him. It should be less sexy than it is, but right now Juno can’t stop fixating on the feeling, can’t stop thinking of anything except making Peter Nureyev come in his pants, so he breaks away just long enough to watch his face as he gets his hands on Nureyev’s hips and presses his thigh upwards.

Nureyev hitches out a breath that just borders on a moan, his mouth falling open. He looks beautiful, divine in a way that goes straight to Juno’s dick. He grinds down hard in response, his own thigh rubbing against Juno’s dick as he moves.

“Oh my God,” Juno gasps out, “ _Nureyev.”_

Nureyev keeps going, rocking his hips into Juno as his mouth finds Juno’s neck again. Juno wraps one hand around his back – the other, he twists into the sheets.

“Don’t stop,” is all that pushes out of Juno’s mouth again, barely loud enough to be heard, along with uncontrollable hushed begging. “Don’t stop, please. Please, _fuck_.”

Nureyev moans into his neck, his hand pushing up Juno’s shirt to play with the piercing through his nipple, and Juno pushes his leg up again.

“Juno,” Nureyev groans. His breath is coming hot and heavy against Juno’s neck, his thigh is still pressing into Juno’s dick with every movement, his clever fingers are tugging at his piercing, and Juno is starting to lose himself in it.

“Fuck,” Juno’s hands travel around to Nureyev’s ass, pressing down as his hips hitch upwards. His entire lower half feels hot and buzzing with pleasure, every movement sending a sharp spike up his spine.

Nureyev bites his neck, moves his head to the other side and bites down on Juno’s collarbone, and Juno arches and cries out. He doesn’t come, not yet, but it’s just there, right there, and he’s babbling—

“Please. Nureyev, please, please, please, gonna come, right there, _please_ don’t stop, I’m so close, _please_ ,” and Nureyev grinds hard down into him and Juno’s back arches again and his voice gets cut off in a shout.

He trembles, holding himself up with Nureyev lying on him, as orgasm washes over him. His dick twitches hard and he comes so hard he feels like everything around him fades out. It’s all he can feel for a moment, sharp and delightful and so, so good. It passes, painfully slowly, and he relaxes back into the mattress with a gentle groan.

His dick twitches, softening against his belly. His underwear is soaked. He’s not yet finished coming down from it when Nureyev kisses him, and then lifts himself from Juno’s leg to undo the button on his slacks and stick his hand down his pants.

Juno wants to ask if he can take over, but he has a feeling Nureyev wouldn’t want him to. He wants to say something at all, but the whole mood feels wrong for him to speak. Nureyev leans over him, his breath coming hard and fast as he rubs at his dick.

Instead, Juno just watches. He puts one hand in Nureyev’s hair and the other on Nureyev’s hip, and looks up at him as he gets closer. He watches the flush on Nureyev’s cheeks, the way his eyes flutter closed, the way his whole body goes tight and urgent as he winds himself up, and up—

Nureyev shudders and his head collapses into Juno’s shoulder. He moans shortly, his hips spasming seemingly unconsciously into his hand for a moment before he finally relaxes, lowering himself down to rest on Juno and pulling his hand out of his pants.

The afterglow is quiet. It’s a nice kind of quiet, a moment Juno doesn’t want to break, even if the whole having just come in his jeans situation demands some sort of attention fairly soon.

He doesn’t really want to have to deal with what this means for them, yet.

Juno wraps his arms around Nureyev, lying on him still. He can feel his rapid heartbeat against his chest, the in and out of his breath. He turns his head to kiss the side of Nureyev’s.

Nureyev shifts on his chest. He leans up to look down at Juno. His hand brushes the side of his face.

Juno wants to tell him not to say anything, not to ruin the moment, but he can’t bring himself to speak. The look on Nureyev’s face is quiet and thoughtful.

Then he leans down and kisses Juno, softly. The kiss is long, and chaste, and when it ends, Nureyev runs his hand down Juno’s chest and sits up.

Juno sits up too. The warmth is just beginning to seep out of the quietness.

Nureyev clears his throat. “Well,” he says, at the same time as Juno says—

“I can’t do this.”

Nureyev lowers his head. He won’t meet Juno’s eye. His elbows rest on his knees.

“Nureyev—”

“It’s alright,” Nureyev says. “I understand. I’m sorry if I’ve made things worse between us. I shouldn’t have given in to wanting like that. I won’t kiss you again.”

“No,” Juno says. “No, no, Nureyev, I—” he clambers over the bed to take Nureyev’s hands in his own. “Fuck. That’s not what I mean. It’s not that I can’t be with you, I just can’t…” Juno sighs, “I can’t do this with you and not talk about it.”

Nureyev glances at him, so Juno continues.

“That was… amazing,” Juno says. “Nureyev, I… I want to have this. With you. And if you don’t want to label it, that’s okay, but I need to know that you’re comfortable with it, too. I don’t want you to be my guilty habit.”

Nureyev studies him. There’s a sadness to his look, like he’s contemplating asking something he already knows the answer to. Then he sighs, and says, “Then what do you want me to be?”

“My boyfriend, ideally,” Juno says in a gush of nervous breath, and then he laughs a little wildly. “I mean, I mean. Anything, if you want. I don’t care if you want to just be… friends with benefits, or just friends, or…” he trails off as he catches the way Nureyev is looking at him.

Nureyev looks… shocked. His eyes flit over Juno’s face, and after a moment, he says, “Your boyfriend?”

Juno’s heart is in his mouth, “Well. I mean, yeah. But it’s okay if that’s not where you’re at, or you’re not sure yet, but, uh… yeah. I guess.”

“You guess.”

“I don’t know! I’m not great with words, okay?” Juno runs a hand through his hair, “And, to be honest with you, I’m a little tired and sore and I need a change of pants, like, ten minutes ago.”

Nureyev laughs softly. His hand closes around Juno’s free one.

“You can stay here tonight, if you’d like,” Nureyev says. His voice is small and uncertain, and he isn’t looking at Juno. He shrugs, “I think it’s a little too late to finish this conversation tonight. But you’re more than welcome to borrow a pair of my pants and… stay.”

“Hey,” Juno says softly. Nureyev turns to look at him, and Juno places his hand on the side of Nureyev’s face. “I’d like that, Nureyev. I really would.”

Nureyev smiles. He leans in, and kisses Juno.

“I’ll go get us a change of clothes,” he says when he parts, and stands from the bed. He stretches a little, and then disappears into the closet.

Juno sits in silence for a little while, contemplating. “Nureyev?” he says.

“Juno,” comes Nureyev’s voice from the closet.

“Tonight was good. Really good.”

For a moment, there’s just silence. Then Nureyev re-appears, a pair of boxers in his hands that Juno only sees a glimpse of before Nureyev stretches the elastic in his fingers and flings them at him. They land on his face with perfect accuracy.

“Like hell these are going to fit me,” Juno mutters as he pulls them off.

“You’d be surprised! They’re apparently one size fits all,” Nureyev walks back over to the bed. “Juno.”

Juno looks up from trying to find the tag on the boxers to check their size. Nureyev leans down and pecks his lips.

“Tonight was good for me, too. Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> paper cuts and trails aside  
> make a wish and hold it tight,  
> this time we'll try our hardest  
> not to try --
> 
> (sleeping at last) 
> 
> \-- lord shiva and kali ma make love beneath the stars, loewen graves.


End file.
